τραγωδία

"schaeffer hall killaz" by torborg and deeley

torborg: tell me, who's the dreamy guy?

deeley: no lie, it's you, t!

torborg: cold rush inside the party --

deeley: in our off-white tees!

torborg: five days a week --

deeley: we givin' ladies our rods!

together: brains, balls, and all -- we rock on and on!

torborg:

ahhh, well, it's lanky t from the schaeffer hall/
cold step inside honors chem. w/ my off-white on/
bust out some equations in under an hour/
checkin' out rebecca hortie, sniffin' my baby powder/

it's gray flannel, baby! it's gray flannel!

t, the guy who tossed wild rice at the homecoming pep rally!

(oooooh!)

they couldn't stop me, b -- i write rhymes about the incident, act-tua-lee
don't dilly dally when you're on the mic, b
i'll short our your mic cord and hand the fully-functioning one to my main man, d

(chill, torborg)

. . . which is short for deeley!

(aaaaah!)

big guy, come speak to your students!

deeley:

well, it's the D-double E-to the L-E-Y/
chubby fucker -- when i laugh you can't see my eyes/
step up in econ. 312 w/ my off-white tee/
it's tight for a reason, bitch, so you can see ALL of me!/

(don't hurt 'em, d!)

me and t stomp the yard and have a seat on the lawn/
draw a landscape of schaeffer hall?/
yo, bitch is already drawn!/

(oh!)

deeley call you "baby"/
call your mom "lady"/
marginal emcees are lazy and have a strange case of scabies/
what's your answer? "maybe"?/
well, don't scream "save me"/
when i pull up in my Armada, lookin' like the whole Spanish navy

together: and it's on and on
and
on
and
on
and
on

brains, balls, and all, we rock on and on!

brains, balls, and all, we rock on and on!

brains, balls, and all, we rock on and on!

parker circle

"parker circle, right? and the addresss is 1212?"

laron slowed his car to a crawl and leaned close to the passenger window to get a closer look at the houses. he was in the prestigous eagle summit neighborhood -- an area only penetrated by blacks for landscaping and home repair services. in the distance, he noticed a home relatively well lit with two gold balloons tied to its mailbox. this must be it, he thought. 1212.

he tucked his cell phone between his legs and took a final glance at the invitation before pulling to a stop along the curb. he could see silhouettes dancing in front of the cream curtains and hear women shrieking. he stepped from his car and slung a small black bag over his shoulder. admiring the flawlessly decorated lawn and accompanying blue-hued lights, laron walked to the house and rang the doorbell.

he pulled a mask over his face before the hostess could answer.

"hello! are you kareem?"

"yes," laron replied. "ava?"

"that's right! come on in!"

laron angled his large frame through the doorway and gently wiped his feet on the carpet. his 6'3", 230 lb. stature immediately drew the attention of the gathering's attendees. he greeted everyone with a nod, trying his best not to make too much eye contact.

"well, kareem, we don't expect much more than this tonight. i don't know if you've had a chance to eat, but there's finger food in the kitchen and a few cheese trays. well, whatever's left of them!"

ava laughed nervously and laron returned the gesture.

"there are few first timers here," ava continued, "but the rest of us are seasoned."

intoxicated by the effluvia of wine and bodily odors, laron fixed his gaze on a dark corner of the room. a pasty, obese blonde woman twirled in and out of his vision. ava began muttering something about payment and laron interrupted.

"everything's taken care of," he said. "tony handled that days ago."

in the kitchen, a short, plump had his wife pinned against the kitchen island, tugging on her hair. she wore an electric blue bra and panty set, which was barely clinging to her body. her husband had his hand buried in her crotch, rubbing vigorously. he wore a dirty white robe, under which was nothing but sheets of coarse black hair. the man noticed laron and yelled at the top of his lungs. his wife reached for laron's shoulder and ran her heavy hand down is arm. the man stepped aside, exposing himself, to show his wife.

"is that what you want, baby?"

laron smirked and grabbed a napkin fill of fruit and chicken drumettes. on the perimeter of the room were middle aged couples, scantily clad or completely nude, making conversation. the clandestine colleagues constituted the area's elite: I.T. company CEOs, investment bankers, sr. marketing developers, and a host of other elite white collar occupations. with the exception of laron, there wasn't another minority in sight.

as he poured a glass of wine, laron was tapped on the shoulder by a regular, bill silva. bill had been married twice and pleased each of his wives solely through these gatherings.

"hey, kareem!" he said. "i want you to meet my wife, dianne."

dianne was frail and nervous. she was naked save a shawl that was draped over her left arm. her breasts were small, and her jutting pelvic bones framed a thatch of auburn pubic hair. laron took her hand and noticed a weak, trembling grip.

"aw, don't be nervous, dianne," bill said. "i'd trust this guy's dick before my own! show her!"

dianne tugged at laron's pants until his semi-erect penis popped free. his size -- nearly four times that of bill -- startled her. dianne looked at bill with great concern, which caused him to laugh raucously.

"look, kareem, if you're not busy now, she'll have you. show her a good time, just like you always have for me. ava's got two empty room at the top of the stairs. and here's a little something extra."

bill stuffed $400 into laron's hand and eyed a nearby stairway. he took dianne by the hand and began to maneuver her through the crowd.

moans and screams painted the halls. a top heavy, long haired brunette took a swipe at laron's penis as he passed her on the stairs. she'd spilled merlot on her neglige and was openly masturbating, awaiting a signal from upstairs.

laron passed two rooms while walking with dianne. in one, he noticed another black male in missionary position, pumping away at a burly blonde woman. her husband stood alongside the bed, in silent admiration, holding a glass of wine. another black male was exiting the second room. he made eye contact with laron and greeted him. inside, two teary-eyed women rubbed each others' breasts and wiped the perspiration from their brows.

dianne arrived at the vacant room and took a seat on the bed, turning her body away from laron. the room was lit by tall red candles in the each corner, which captured the silk brushed crimson comforter.

"are you okay?" laron asked with a smile on his face.

dianne took the last gulp of her wine and spoke.

"i'm fine."

laron took a condom and bottle of lubricant from his bag and undressed. dianne rolled to her back, closed her eyes, and slowly spread her legs. as laron's erection grew and he applied the condom, dianne took notice and fell aghast. she closed her legs and he approached.

"it's okay." laron said.

he applied the lubricant and began to mount her. downstairs, three women screamed in unison and a glass came crashing to the floor.

"it's okay." laron said again.

as he penetrated dianne, her eyes bulged and her mouth went slack. her visage remained fixed in that position as laron did as he was ordered. no eye contact. no emotion. only business.

_____________________________________________

"how was last night?"

"it was cool. i made $950 in tips and was out of there by 1:30."

"cool. was bill silva there?"

"you know he was. he brought along his new wife, dianne, too. i had to stop mid-session with her because she started bleeding."

"got damn. what did she say?"

"nothing. bill just said he'll have her ready for next time."

"crazy. well, look, the reason i called is because there's a new guy that's interested. ex-football player, trying to earn some extra money. he seems cool, but he's young, you know? what are you doin' later?"

"i'm going to the gym in an hour."

"cool. can you meet up with him at carrington's afterwards?"

"yeah, no problem."

"cool. maybe he can get started with you next weekend."

good lord

on the subway this morning, i thought my boxers had bled through my slacks. even though the car wasn't full to capacity, the air conditioning was still struggling to keep everyone cool. i shifted in my seat numerous times but still ended up sweaty and uncomfortable.

when the train reached my stop, i slid to the end of my seat and stood to begin walking to the doors. however, when i did my standard glance back at the seat, there was a blue, ass cheek-shaped stain on the edge. i was frightened. had i sweated my ass out of my underwear and onto the orange Metro seat? indeed, the heat had me so paranoid that i walked to my job with my messenger bag slung over my rear. all i could think about was having to hide my shame, tossing my brown pants, and buying a new pair as soon as a nearby store opened.

i've lived in the D.C. area my entire life and can't remember being so bothered by heat. i get angry when the humidity greets me as i leave the house in the morning; i get angry when i step on the train looking like someone dumped Gatorade on me; i get angry when i have to walk my dog in the evening; but most of all, i get angry when i look at my electric bill.

fuck this.